For Want of a Map
A/N: This fic really stems in part from the whole premise that the Map, great as it is, is basically one big plothole for the first few books. It was perhaps illustrated most vividly in the Goblet of Fire novel, and also when Harry nearly discovers the identity of Peter Pettigrew courtesy of the Map in the third movie. Granted, I'm using a little creative licence with the Basilisk being detectable, but hey, that's fanfiction. Most will be familiar with the proverb and poem For Want of a Nail which according to Wikipedia describes "a situation in which a failure to anticipate or correct some initially small dysfunction leads by successively more critical stages to an egregious outcome."
There were many emotions competing in George's mind as he and Fred opened the door to the Hospital Wing, where their sister was still being monitored as a precaution. Even though Ginny had been cleared of any physical injury, the psychological ones they all knew would take longer to heal.
"How's she been going tonight?" Fred asked hesitantly, in a manner that George knew was as uncommon as Percy cracking jokes. Clearly, he was feeling it too. Sheer relief, mostly. But it was competing with guilt heavily. The number of times they had the Map there throwing up warnings, but for a lack of comprehension at what they were seeing, or sheer bad luck in timing, they'd never comprehended or seen what was going on. Just what in the name of Severus Snape's non-existent shampoo had that horrible object done precisely to her?
Madam Pomfrey looked up from her desk outside – her face was even more heavily lined than in previous years, and sighed.
"She had a nightmare just a few minutes ago, but I gave her some of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, Pepperup Potion, and a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. Sadly she still seems to think it's her fault, what happened." At that, Madam Pomfrey let out a slight sniff, but she then smiled. "Normally, I'd be concerned about you two setting the Hospital Wing on fire, but if destroying the place makes her smile, so be it."
"If you don't mind, can we ensure the place is just to ourselves for the next fifteen?" George asked. "Sibling talk and all that." Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Of course, in you go."
The first thing that the Twins noticed as they neared Ginny's bed was the unmistakably copious amounts of steam pouring from the far bed. Clearly, the Pepperup Potion was still having an effect.
Ginny still looked extremely frail, but at least she was smiling. "Hey," she croaked out. "Sorry about all this. Evanesco." One wand-wave saw the steam disappear.
George's mouth fell open. Did his baby sister just use a Vanishing Spell?
"Don't tell me that in addition to nicking and using our brooms at age ten, you've been taking lessons from Hermione on spellwork?" Fred asked. Ginny giggled at that.
"Ten? I've been doing that since age six, thank you very much. And yes, I have. Certainly helped get the number of tissues I've gone through under control, that's for sure."
George felt a swell of pride in his sister's abilities at black humour, and of her ability to dodge rules too.
"So, who's been to see you?" Fred asked, kneeling beside Ginny's right bedpost as George leaned in over the left. "Hermione, of course," she replied, grinning slightly. "My Ravenclaw friend Luna, Colin, and of course Mum and Dad, just before they left this morning. As you know, I did pop into the feast to say hello to Hagrid, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that I stay here for another couple of days. It's…" She swallowed, her lower lip trembling "- just going to be difficult for the next wee while." George noticed freshly dried tear-tracks, and he knew he had to ask the question.
"You were down in the Chamber again, weren't you?"
Ginny let out a shudder, and nodded.
"Chocolate," Fred ordered, patting her gently on the shoulder, whereupon Ginny grabbed the bar and wolfed it down in a most unladylike manner.
"At least we know who did it," Fred smiled thinly. "Lucius Malfoy resigned this morning, entirely voluntarily, we might add." "What?" Ginny cried out, her mouth still partially full.
"Yes, the one and only," George chuckled. At least that little greasy slimeball disguised as his son won't be strutting around nearly as much next year. Y'know Gin, I reckon little Draco's obsession with Harry outstrips even yours." He gave her a cheeky wink as Ginny flushed vivid scarlet, but she laughed anyway.
"So why was he sacked…..of course!" she breathed animatedly. "He put the diary into my cauldron and started this whole thing, didn't he?"
"Must've been so," Fred said grimly. "Dumbledore can't do much beyond sacking him, given no Wizengamot trial would accept a wrecked diary as a witness, but he certainly laid some Hagrid-sized hints for Dad to work on."
"Can't wait to hear the headline," George sighed dreamily. "Murder in the heart of the Ministry." At that, Ginny gave a shudder, and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Sis, I'm so sorry."
Ginny shook her head slowly. "Forget it. It's just a little difficult hearing that word when he was taking me down there, telling me how he murdered Myrtle."
"What?" both boys cried out in unison.
"The one and only Moaning Myrtle. Yes, I've become way too familiar with that bathroom." She shuddered again, causing George to put an arm around her and murmur "He's gone though, Ginny. You Know Who." Ginny gave a sniff as she turned to him, and George felt his spine grow cold at the far too world-weary look Ginny was giving him. She'd grown up far too rapidly…..
"You really think that?" she whispered back as a solitary tear started to fall. "He was hit by his own Killing Curse and yet he still came back last year, and this year. Mum and Dad never believed the Prophet headlines, and you can tell Dumbledore never did believe that." Pausing only to blow her nose, she continued. "Dumbledore uses his name in full. Voldemort, as well as his real name. It's Tom Riddle, and I can't see why we shouldn't use his name. He's scary enough already as it is."
"I do love Dumbledore," Fred smiled affectionately. "I'll let you in on a secret, Ginny. Did you know I tried to ask him out on Valentine's Day last year for a date to Hogsmeade?"
"Only because I hadn't got there first mate," George shot back. "I suggested the Three Broomsticks."
"Whatever ugly, I know for a fact you've been eyeing up the delectable Miss Spinnet for a little…." Fred proceeded to make childish kissing noises as Ginny giggled, wiping her eyes. George blushed vividly.
"What a load of Hippogriff sh-"
The argument went on, mostly centred on whether or not George had taken up a dare to send McGonagall a Valentine.
"Enough of you two," Ginny finally interrupted. "What about Ron?"
"What do you mean?" George asked. "The only thing our clueless brother knows about girls is that one of them will occasionally – no, always – help him with his homework."
"What are the chances of him and…"
"If you mean Hermione," Fred interrupted, "We'll be waiting until the turn of the Millennium in all probability."
"What about Harry and H-" George began, but he was cut off by Ginny.
"You prat," she sighed. "Harry and Hermione are just friends. She even said to me this morning that he's like a brother to her." George turned to her, smirking, as did Fred. Evidently realising how suspicious her knowledge of Harry was, she ploughed on. "If anything happens, it'll be with her and Ron, unless, I dunno, some hunky Qudditch star or something pops up. In which case Ron might just fall head over heels for him."
George chuckled heartily. Ron really did like his Quidditch players, that was for sure.
"The alternative, of course is that sometime in the next few years he discovers puberty and gets with some airheaded dimbo," she finished, throwing her hands up despairingly. "One thing is for sure, I'll never take relationship advice from diaries again."
"Guess we'll put down a betting pool?" Fred smirked. "Fourth Year that ickle Ronniekins finally finds someone with enough brain damage to want him?"
"Sixth," chimed in George.
"Seventh," said Ginny. "Let's make it a Galleon."
The three sat in companionable silence for a while, before Fred spoke up again. From his tone, George knew, they were close to revealing their secret to Ginny, that which they were both so ashamed about.
"You did say Tom Riddle before, didn't you?"
"Yes," Ginny replied bitterly.
"Well, in that case…." George replied, pulling out the blank bit of parchment they'd now had for more than three years.
Fred gave George a serious look, then pulled out his wand and tapped the parchment.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
As the Marauders Map began to form, George began to explain the map's functions to Ginny.
"So that's the parchment I've seen you two with," she whispered animatedly. "Why are you showing me this now?"
"Because we saw the name Tom Riddle on here two Christmases ago," Fred said sharply. "We just remembered the other night. Did Dumbledore explain to you about Professor Quirrell last school year? How he possessed Quirrell and used him to do his bidding? Well, we saw on this map that there were two dots on top of each other, and so we decided to throw bewitched snowballs at the hidden Mr. Riddle. We just thought it was a mistake on the map, but it must surely mean at least one of us is on a termination list for throwing snowballs at the Dark Lord."
Ginny laughed heartily.
"Then, last Halloween, we saw you coming out of Myrtle's Bathroom, and we all too briefly saw another dot that appeared on that corridor."
"The Basilisk?"
"Yes," sighed George. "We got involved in doing other things, and quickly forgot about that dot, but if we'd kept the map open, it would've showed Mrs. Norris being attacked. The reason we're telling you this, Ginny, is simple: do you think we should keep this map? I mean, several people nearly got killed, and if this map was in Dumbledore's hands, a whole lot of trouble might've been avoided."
"I mean, pranks and all are our life," Fred continued. "And we'd hate to lose this map, but we can't help but think if we should've… could've done something different."
"Is the Chamber of Secrets on the map?" Ginny asked.
"No, Salazar Slytherin must've made it unplottable."
"That settles it then," she replied with a don't argue with me finality. "Most of the time, I went to open the Chamber when it was dark. Even you two must surely have been in bed those times. And as for Hermione and Penelope, well, you were at the Pitch with Harry and Oliver Wood. The only person that's responsible is Voldemort. Period. I have to keep telling myself that, because if I let those thoughts take up my brain again, I'll….I'll never be free of this."
She let in a deep breath then continued.
"He's still out there, somewhere. The least we can do is have a little fun every now and then, which I think you've shown you excel at. Keep it yourselves, or if you're still feeling guilty, give it to someone who needs it more, like, I dunno, Harry. One condition though…." She leaned forwards and George for one did not like the gleam in her eye.
"Do let me know if something suspicious catches your eye in the last few weeks of term. Like with Percy, for instance."
"What do you mean with Percy?" Fred asked, completely nonplussed.
"All will be revealed in good time," she teased.
Just then, Ron burst in with one hand around Scabbers, Hermione and Harry in tow.
"Don't tell anyone about this," George whispered, as Fred whispered "Mischief managed" and tucked the map away. Ginny gave a conspiratorial wink.
As they left and greeted the trio, neither Twin had spotted the fourth dot with Harry, Ron and Hermione. History was repeating itself again.
All for Want of a Map….
A/N: Yes, I deliberately included a little foreshadowing here, both lighthearted, and also a darker one involving Fred.